


Runaway

by aeoleus



Series: Challenges [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Fuck Henry Laurens, Gen, Homophobia, Religious Conflict, Violence, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoleus/pseuds/aeoleus
Summary: John doesn't exactly get along with his father. But this fight seems worse than all the others.Maybe because he is now homeless in the middle of the winter with an eye swollen shut and no coat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to Runaway by Ed Sheeran. 
> 
> This is part of my "Challenges" series, and is actually a coda to the chapter "Bloodstream". Here's the rundown: Alex is fostered by the Washingtons, a wealthy, politically powerful D.C. family. They already have one adopted son: Lafayette, the son of a dead French ambassador. John's father is a South Carolinian senator and is a powerful figure in the GOP.

John was perfectly happy right now. The house was quiet. He was scrolling through Instagram under a blanket on the couch. Nobody was bothering him. And then someone dumped a textbook on his legs. 

“John, can you help me with my homework?” Mary asked.

“Depends…” John pulled the blanket off of his face and squinted at his little sister. “Is it math, because if it is, absolutely not, and what’s in it for me?”

“It’s social studies and I’ll get you a juice box.”

“Deal.”

Mary grinned and left the room, hopefully to get the juice box.

Their dad had been gone all week trying to garner support for reelection back in South Carolina, which meant the house was quiet and easy. Most senators’ families stayed in their home states, but John only went back in the summer. South Carolina was only ever a vacation. D.C, with it's horrible weather and terrible politicians and incredible history? That was home.

Mary came back in and tossed a juice box on his lap, then sat on the end of the couch and pulled a worksheet out of a folder.

“You’re lucky I’m so smart, otherwise you’d fail history-ow!” John said, as he tried to puncture his juice box with the straw and accidentally stabbed his palm. Mary raised her eyebrow.

“Whatever. What’s this on?”

“I have to summarize supreme Court cases. Mine is Obergfell v. Hodges.”  

“Ah.” John finally got the straw in. “Don't ask Dad about this.”

“Don’t ask Dad about what?”

The side door opened, and Henry Laurens came in, covered in snow. He wasn't due back until tomorrow. 

“Dad!” Mary launched off the couch and wrapped herself around him. John put down the juice box and pretended not to notice.

“How’s my girl?” Henry grinned.

“Fine. John was just helping me with his homework.”

“Is he? That’s nice of him. What are you working on?”

Mary glanced at John. He felt his stomach knot.

“Oh, just some Supreme Court worksheets. Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting? I’ll have you know I was a-”

“Supreme Court clerk under Thomas Kennedy.” John muttered under his breath.

“What was that, John?”

“Nothing.” He swiped open his phone as his dad took the opposite chair. Alex had snapped him a video of Laf lip-syncing to Mariah Carey while they wrapped presents for Martha.

“So, show me this case!”

“Oh, it’s nothing. We finished.” Mary lied. John gave her a grateful look.

“Well, let me see if it’s right. What case is it?” Henry asked.

Mary bit her lip. John became very interested in the blanket on his lap.

“Well?”

“It’s...Obergfell v. Hodges.” Mary said.

“Ah.” Henry flexed his fingers out and laid his palms flat on his knees. “What did John tell you…About that particular case?”

“N-nothing. Yet.”

“Good.” Henry said shortly. “Then I can tell you the truth.”

“The truth? I-I, John wouldn't lie-”

“No, no, sweetheart. He wouldn't lie. It’s just his brand of reality is all. Not lying. Just misguided.”

John never noticed this pattern on the blanket before. Squares, interlocked together. His phone buzzed. Alex had snapped him again.

“Well, how do I start with this one?” Henry sighed. “First, it was an unnecessary ruling, a complete overreach of the federal government over the states’ rights,  not to mention morally wrong-”

“Morally wrong?” In spite of himself, in spite of the soreness in his chest screaming at him to stay quiet, John spoke up. “I can understand overreach. But morally wrong? C-can you explain how it’s morally wrong?”

Henry actually almost looked convincingly shocked.

“John, you know the church teachings as well as I do, you know that-”

“Yeah, I know that they’re bullshit!”

“John! I will not tolerate swearing under my roof, especially not when your sister’s in the room.”

“Right. It’s only okay to swear when you’re insulting someone else. Preferably someone you think is lesser than you.” John said. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew this wouldn't end well.

“Mary, go to your room.” Henry said quietly. “Now.”

Mary gave John a frightened look. He nodded at her. _It’s okay, go._ She nodded and left the room, glancing back before running up the stairs.

Henry stood up from his chair and turned away from John, arms crossed. John said nothing. He didn't dare move, not even to silence his phone. Alex wanted to know if ,he wanted to come watch Netflix with him and Laf. The silence grew, and the tension grew.

“You and I, we seem to not understand each other.” Henry started quietly. John didn't respond. He knew this wouldn't end well, but no point in trying to hurry his doom.

“You seem to not remember that we are not on the same level. I am your _father_ . I responsible for you. I am in charge of you. You _respect me._ How dare,” Henry turned around. His fists were tight at his sides. “How dare you disrespect me.”

“Respect is not one way.” John’s voice shook.

“That’s where you’re wrong boy. You think a lot of bullshit. You spew a lot of bullshit. You disrespect me, you disrespect the name of Laurens, you disrespect this entire house! You’ve done NOTHING that hasn't hurt my campaign.”

Henry didn't sound angry, but that was when he was most dangerous. When he knew exactly what he was doing, when he knew exactly what to say, how to hurt John, in ways that would leave him gasping for air but would never leave a mark.

 

“Did you know I had a press conference yesterday? The _very first_ question I got was about you. Not about my policies or how I plan to help South Carolina, but you. It seems you were at a rally on Friday. Wearing some ridiculous get-up, supporting causes that are destroying our country-”

“You mean the anti-hate rally at school?”

“Don't. Interrupt me.” Henry said quietly. “You can't do anything but hurt this family, hurt my campaign, and hurt your little sister. What were you going to tell her about that horrible case, John? That it was good, that it made everyone equal and happy?” Henry mocked a high, D.C. yuppy accent.

“No.” John said. He stood up, put his phone in his pocket, and made to leave the room.“I was gonna tell her that it was the ruling that made it possible for me to get married.”

_Shit._

Did he really just say that?

He was going to die. In this room.

His heart was pounding in his ribs. His brain was screaming _run, run, run._ But, somehow, he calmly walked across the room. That is, until he felt a large hand on his shoulder. Henry swung John around, and kept a hand on his shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

Henry Laurens had about four inches on John, maybe forty pounds. At that moment, it felt more like four-hundred. He should have texted Laf. Maybe Marty. The police?

“I-I said that it would let me get married.” Why did he sound so calm? He felt like he was going to throw up.

“And why,” Henry didn't sound quite as calm. His grasp on John’s shoulder tightened; John winced. “Can't you get married now?”

“You know why.” John knocked Henry’s arm off of him. Henry stumbled backwards.and hit a bookcase. John hadn't meant to hit that hard. He honestly hadn't. Henry’s jaw jutted out, his eyes darkened. John took a few steps backwards. He needed to get  out of here, maybe lay low for a few days- _thud._ He tripped over his own feet and found himself on the ground. Henry grabbed him by the shirt and roughly pulled him up, until he was just barely standing on the ground.

“I don't know why.” Henry said. His grip tightened, his face was devoid of any emotion except for anger. John could barely breathe. “Why can't you get married, John?”

John didn't answer. He couldn’t form a coherent thought except for _run run run get out run._

“ANSWER ME, BOY!” Henry screamed. For some reason, that helped.

“I’m gay. I can't get married because I'm gay.” John said. His voice cracked.

 

God.

What did he.

just do.

 

Henry stared at him. Just stared. Then he dropped him. John scrambled up and was almost out the door when Henry reached out and grabbed his t-shirt. John was jerked back. He threw back an elbow and felt his nausea intensify when he hit something soft and heard a yelp. But Henry didn't let go. No. Instead, Henry swung John around, pulled back his arm, and slammed his fist into John's eye.

 

The first thing John felt was nothing. Then he felt an intense blow like his brain had hit his skull. The room was a spinning red, then black, and then John was on the floor trying not to cry, staring at his father’s expensive loafers.

“You better not be here in five minutes. You are not a Laurens. You are certainly not my son. Get out.”

Henry’s voice was calm again. John watched him walk out. His eye was screaming in pain. He couldn't open it. Somehow, he picked himself up. His phone was in his pocket. He had to get out of here. Now. He slumped against the wall next the front door. His head was pounding.

“J-John?” Mary was sitting in the stairs. She looked terrified. Her eyes were red.

“I’ll be okay, Mary, don’t worry.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know.” John could hear footsteps from the kitchen. He had to go. “Anywhere. Not here. I’ll be okay.”

The door to the kitchen opened. John slipped out the front door before Henry could see him again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Being okay seemed a far harder challenge than it had been thirty seconds ago. He had left his keys in the house. Along with a jacket. It was snowing, and John was already freezing. He gingerly felt his eye and gasped as sharp pains radiated from the swollen flesh. One step at a time. He had to go somewhere. The Washingtons. Laf. Martha. Alex. They lived four miles from here, but what else could he do?

 

By the time he was standing on the Washington's doorstep, John could barely stand. His head pounded with every step he took. Everything was blurred. He was so cold. So tired. He just leaned against the door for a second, just to catch his breath.

The door swung open. Mr Washington stood in the doorway. He had on a tuxedo. Oh, yeah. The Christmas party was tonight. Alex said You Yo Ma was playing. Mr Washington seems shocked.

“Hey, Mr Washington.” John could barely get the words out. “Can I come in? S’cold."

“John. What happened to you?” Mr Washington asked. He actually seemed concerned. John laughed a little. There was a slam from inside the house and Laf and John appeared behind Mr Washington. Laf’s eyes widened, then narrowed in anger, but Alex just looked shocked. John tried to step forward but stumbled. Mr Washington caught him.

“Laf, take his arm.”

Laf put his arm under his shoulder. John couldn't even look at him as he and Mr Washington all but carried John into the house. They put him on the couch in the living room. The TV was on. Parks and Rec. Martha kneeled in front of him and put her warm hand over his.

“John, what happened?” She asked steadily. He couldn't respond. He was so cold. “Alex, go get one of Laf’s sweatshirts. Hurry!” Alex almost tripped as he ran out of the room.

“Let’s get you out of this, honey.” Martha said, gently tugging at his shirt. It was soaked. That was why he was cold. She began to pull at his hem, but John pulled it back down.

“John?” She asked softly. “What’s wrong? It’s cold. You’re going to get sick.”

“I-I can't show you.” John stuttered.

“Show us what?” Mr Washington asked.

John bit back a sob and let Martha pull his shirt off.

“Oh, my god.”

John knew exactly what they were staring at. He had stared at it himself in the mirror. The bruises everywhere. Henry knew to only hurt him where it couldn't be seen. He put his head in his hands. He was such a fucking failure.

“It's okay, honey, it’s okay.” Martha rubbed his shoulders.

There were footsteps on the stairs, but they halted suddenly.

“Alex, hand me that T-shirt please.” Martha said.

Alex. Alex probably thought he was broken.

“John, honey, come on. Put this shirt on. It’ll make you feel better.”   
  


John sobbed a jerky laugh at that, but he raised his hands as Martha pulled the shirt over his head. It was warm and soft, but it didn't make him warm.

 

Mr. Washington came back into the room with ice packs.

“Lay back, John.” He said softly.

 

John did as he was told. The couch was so soft. Mr Washington put a large pack on his chest, where a particularly nasty bruise had grown. The cold shocked him, and he coughed violently, which only made the pain worse. Mr Washington put another over his eye.

 

“Okay, John, sweetie.” Martha swept some of the hair out of his face. “You’ve got to tell us what happened.”

 

Did he?

John guessed he did.

 

What does he say? _My dad kicked me out because I’m gay and he thinks I’m an abomination?_

No. That was just too sad. Half truths were better than none.

 

“M-my dad.” He said.

 

Mr Washington turned away, his fingers flexing. Only he didn't turn around and hit John. He began to pace the room.

 

“Okay.” Martha said gently. “Okay. What did he do, John? What happened?”   
  
“I said it.” John said. His voice was hoarse. “I’ve never said it before. He sort of knew, but-” John’s voice broke. “We were arguing. And I said I was gay. H-He got angry. Punched me.”

 

Mr Washington took a deep breath and put his hands over his head.   
  


John couldn't even meet Alex’s eyes. He could hear Laf crying. Couldn't look at him.

  
“I left. I-I couldn't stay there.” John lied. He laughed wryly and his chest screamed protest. “He punched me and I left.”   
  
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Martha said steadily. “You’re gonna get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, when you're feeling better, we’re going to talk about what to do next. But you’re gonna stay here for a while, John. Okay?”   
  
“Okay.” John said quietly.

 

“Okay. Come on.” Martha offered her hand. John got slowly off the couch. He was dizzy. Alex came to his side and helped him stand. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs. They got to his bedroom, where he sat on the bed and Martha helped him take off his shoes. She kissed his forehead.

“You’re gonna be okay, John. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you’re gonna be okay.”

John nodded tightly. He put the ice back on his eye and tried to not look at Alex at the end of the bed.

 

Martha smoothed out his hair one last time, then left the room. Alex stayed back.

“I got you another blanket.” He said. John couldn’t respond. Alex spread the flannel blanket over him. “Y-you looked cold downstairs.”

“Alex, come on.” Martha said from the doorway.

“Thank you.”, John whispered.

Alex gave him a half smile, then followed Martha out the door. The door shut and left John in complete darkness.

 

From outside the door, John could hear them talking.

“Those bruises...George, let’s go to our room. Boys, bed. Now. Leave John alone.”

“But-” Laf’s voice cut in.

“ _Now._ ”

It fell silent. Doors shut. From his pants pocket, his phone vibrated. He had his phone?

He took it out. Mary had texted him.


End file.
